Hibernation
Muse has neither gone limp
In me like a manhood
At the peak of its use
Nor did my pen run dry
Like Esisi tributary in dry season.
It was only a period of hibernation
To prepares my wits
For the coming season.
Now my pen is erect
As if you were a naked maiden
Ready to ejaculate seeds of fire
Inside every open heart
Just the way Muse
Have been doing in me.
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